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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23748295">Gojenie</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Camaendir/pseuds/Camaendir'>Camaendir</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 15:54:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,383</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23748295</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Camaendir/pseuds/Camaendir</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Jaskier had ignored the warnings of a werewolf in the woods, and now fights to heal from his wounds. An old shadow darkens his door once more.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>260</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Gojenie</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Gojenie= Healing</p>
<p>This comes (loosely) from the prompt "You're my emergency contact and I've been in an accident, so you drop everything to come to the hospital".</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He should have stayed at the tavern, Jaskier thought to himself as he bolted through the thick woods just outside of town. </p>
<p>The beast was on his tail, snarls and huffs of hungry air getting closer and louder with every slam of heavy paws against the forest floor. If he had been faster, he may have caught the beast upside its head with his lute, giving him the few precious seconds needed to clear the wood and make it into town.</p>
<p>But alas, luck was not on his side that night, he realized as coarse hair almost tickled his nape before his back erupted in lines of fire and he tumbled forward. He could hear his clothing ripping to pieces, his skin prickling as pebbles and sticks stuck him throughout his rolling through the forest debris. </p>
<p>Face down, with only the darkened soil and fallen leaves in his vision, he heard the howl high above him and screwed his eyes shut, awaiting the inevitable.</p>
<p>A slam.</p>
<p>A claw against his thigh and one digging into the wounds across his back.</p>
<p>Jaskier could taste the blood in his throat as his world ended in darkness and the odor of rancid meat huffed out above.</p>
<p>~~</p>
<p>Light and heat.</p>
<p>Voices. Yelling.</p>
<p>The ring of metal scraping against metal.</p>
<p>Darkness again.</p>
<p>~~</p>
<p>Jaskier had awoken with a violent start, his stomach emptying itself of the bile and blood he had swallowed through the onslaught. A woman behind him only tutted, and he was carefully lifted, the sheets beneath him removed and loosely replaced. </p>
<p>Splayed out on his side, he tried to curl in on himself, only to feel his back catch fire again, and he bit back the cry that threatened to escape his cracked lips.</p>
<p>“Move and you’ll rip the stitches,” the woman informed him. “Give it a day with the poultices and you can lay on your back.” There was a chuckle. “I’m sure many a lass would be happy to hear that.”</p>
<p>Jaskier tried to reply with a “Are you one of those lasses?”, but only coughed up a scratchy noise.</p>
<p>There was a hand in his hair, combing back his locks. “Shh. Try not to speak. The wolf got you good before the men scared it off. I’ll give you a potion once you can sit up, and that should fix the inflammation.”</p>
<p>Jaskier calmed down, tears in his eyes, as the hand left his hair to peel away what he could only assume were bandages so soaked in his own blood they could be crimson ribbons now. They stuck to his skin, and he could feel every inch of the cloth crackle with the crusted blood. He sniffled, trying his damnedest to not appear like a sniveling youth as more poultice was rubbed over the wounds in his back and his thigh, the skin tingling with the herbs doing what they could for what would inevitably be jagged and rough scars.</p>
<p>He didn’t have to try long as he passed out, new bandages being applied with a mother’s care.</p>
<p>~~</p>
<p>Moonlight bled into the room as he woke, a small fire in the hearth keeping the cold of the night at bay. The bard stared up at the ceiling for a moment before closing his eyes and thanking whatever gods were helping him that he could move, with far less pain as he worked his way onto his side and glancing out the window at the tips of waving trees in the night’s wind. </p>
<p>A howl ripped high above the treetops and Jaskier quickly, with his heart in his throat, flipped to face the hearth, his wounds singing in tune with the beast outside in the forest. Tears stung his eyes as he swallowed hard, air not quite reaching his lungs. He tried to focus on the crackling of the fire and the sounds of life in the hallway. He could pick up on two people talking. The healer and her assistant, he assumed.</p>
<p>“…more dead cattle this morning. At least… farmer…”</p>
<p>“I heard… -derman posted for a hunter… towns over. Hope-”</p>
<p>His fingers closed tight around the bedsheet, his vision blurring as his back spasmed and the stitches stretching taunt. A hoarse cry tore out of him and he could hear the door opening as his world went black once more.</p>
<p>~~</p>
<p>The medicine didn’t take.</p>
<p>Jaskier swallowed hard as he watched the old bandages fall to the side of the bed, the brown of old blood spotted with a sickening yellow. He bit his lower lip, listening to the sharp intake of the healer as the last bandage was unwound.</p>
<p>He attempted to turn his head to look the healer in the eyes, but she gently nudged his shoulder to keep his back straight. Fingers traced the lines down his back, prodding and sending bolts of pain up his spine.</p>
<p>“Definitely infected. We’ll have to deal with this quickly, so it doesn’t start rotting.” The healer hurried out of the room with a reminder for the bard to lay as still as possible. The assistant followed swiftly with bandages in arms and a quiet apology.</p>
<p>As he lay across the old bed, Jaskier could do nothing but try and fail to stop focusing on the heat radiating from his back and thigh. Midday light poured through the window, the dust and ash in the air twisting like a grey snowstorm.</p>
<p>He had no idea how long he had stared at the performance in the sunbeams before the door opened again, and two pairs of boots came up to him slowly.</p>
<p>“Mr. Bard,” The healer began, dragging a stool over with her to sit in front of Jaskier. He took in the deep lines of a life overworked as she spoke. “In order to treat the infection, we are going to have to pack the wounds with herbs and salve. And that means…” She steeled her posture as she continued. “That means we are going to have to cut into them. And it is going to hurt. For some time. I’ll give you a draft that will help ease the pain, but I can’t give it to you until after we have packed the wounds.”</p>
<p>Standing, she helped Jaskier lay on his stomach, the blankets pulled fully from his form. Then, she gently pried his jaw open, and gave him a wet fold of cloth that tasted like lemons and ginger as it was settled between his lips. He bit hard onto the fabric as she nodded to her assistant and they began their work. </p>
<p>At the first dig of a blade into his back, the bard feared he would shatter his teeth as the metal traversed the length of one claw mark, pulling the stitches free and cutting into the muscle beneath. Vision swimming and his entire body feeling as if he was upon the pyre, he bit into his cheek and let the gush of blood swim over his tongue. </p>
<p>The two continued with the next mark, blade and then cloth moving into the open wound. Twice more this happened, and Jaskier huffed out a relieved sigh as the sound of the blade being set against the table next to the bed. This reprise was swiftly eviscerated as the sluggishly bleeding wounds were rubbed down with thick salve, stretching them wider and his back and arms began to grow numb with the immense pain. </p>
<p>The tear in his thigh was worse. His eyes rolled back in his head and he wept into the cloth between his teeth as the steel dug deeper into his thigh. He swore he could hear it scrape against bone before his vision blurred into muted browns and a starburst of light from either the window or the hearth. He could even tell which direction he was facing now.</p>
<p>As soon as fresh clean, cloth was tied around his thigh, he was gently lifted onto his side and the healer helped him remove the fabric between his lips, now filled with his drool and stained with blood. She kept a hand under his head, calloused palm against his cheek, and lifted a small bowl to his lips. He couldn’t even taste the elixir as he continued to swallow, the woman in front of him a white and blue blob that bled into the brown around her. </p>
<p>The bowl left his lips and his consciousness left him before he was settled back against the pillow.</p>
<p>~~</p>
<p>New sounds began to bleed into his tired mind. Sounds of growling. And yelling. And the unmistakable cling of gold crashing into each other. Then a door swinging open wildly, and heavy footfalls slamming closer and closer to him. </p>
<p>Jaskier groaned as he turned his head, fire dancing behind his eyes, and could make out a massive shape over his bed. His heart hammered in his chest, threatening to burst through his ribcage before a leather glove closed around his hand.</p>
<p>“Jaskier…” came the low baritone, and his heart hammered harder, now dropping low into his gut.</p>
<p>“Please,” the bard croaked out, his voice like clay pots scratching against each other, “not him.” The fire behind his eyes spilled down his cheeks. “Let Death take any form but his. I don’t-” He choked out a sob and turned from the reaper above him, squeezing his eyes shut even as the tears continued to fall freely. He’d prefer any other form to take him away. A rotted corpse, a fallen angel, even Valdo Marx. Anyone other than… him.</p>
<p>The glove squeezed harder around his hand, a weaker “Jaskier,” breathed out above him, before a knee crashed into the floor. </p>
<p>Jaskier gasped from the shaking of the bed, and the agitation to his wounds.</p>
<p>His hand felt cold as the leather glove quickly released him.</p>
<p>The bard sucked in a shaky breath, pained as if he were breathing in sand, and bit back his sobs, leather and metal rubbing against each other as the entity stood and remained motionless at the side of Jaskier’s bed.</p>
<p>~~</p>
<p>He wasn’t sure when he had cried himself to sleep, but Jaskier awoke to pages being flipped behind him. Orange light danced on the wall before him, a vague shape of someone much smaller than even the bard twisting with the flames from the hearth.</p>
<p>Clouds hang heavily in the night sky, hiding the moon and stars from his view. The trees were still, and no bird nor bat nor insect sang into the violet sky.</p>
<p>Ever so slowly, Jaskier turned in his bed, the pain in his back and thigh were almost nothing now, more like pulled muscles instead of tears of certain death. He maneuvered to his other side and stared at the new person in his temporary quarters.</p>
<p>A young girl sat next to the hearth, a thick book in her lap, and all her attention sucked into the inked pages.</p>
<p>Jaskier grunted deep in his throat, and the girl looked up, surprise in her big doe eyes. “Hi,” he croaked out, with a small smile on his lips. “You here to let them know when to put these old bones out to sea?” He tried to chuckle, but the soreness in his throat wouldn’t let him.</p>
<p>The girl slowly shook her head, gingerly trading the book for a tankard on the table and approached Jaskier. He could smell the honey and lemon wafting from the lukewarm tea. </p>
<p>He accepted the tea with fervor, his throat nearly singing with relief the drink brought. Thanking her quietly, he settled back against the soft pillow and watched her. Thin. Dark clothes. Hair like pewter thread. She set the drink near him on the table and straightened, hands clasped in front of her.</p>
<p>“So why are you here, young one?” He asked, his throat already feeling better.</p>
<p>“I’m here to watch over you, Mr. Jaskier.” </p>
<p>He weakly waved his hand at her. “Just Jaskier, dear. The only people allowed to call me Mister are the students who pay too much to hear me speak.”</p>
<p>Her eyes glittered and widened, large emeralds in the dimly lit room. “You’re a professor?!” She exclaimed, a hand reaching for the book she had been reading.</p>
<p>Jaskier’s smile widened. “Not yet. Was on my way to Oxenfurt when…” He glanced down at his body hidden by the blanket and his joy disappeared like a candle flame in a storm. “I hope someone takes care of that beast out there.” He looked back out the window, where he could imagine the cold air and the forest beneath his terrified feet again.</p>
<p>The girl nodded and slowly sat back down, moving her chair closer to the bed. She maneuvered the book back into her lap and smiled at Jaskier again. “I’m sure it will meet a proper end, Mi- Jaskier.”</p>
<p>The bard turned back to her and smiled in return, the gesture not quite reaching his eyes. He sighed softly and settled back into the thin mattress, switching between staring out the window and looking at the young woman as the crinkle of pages turning swam with the crackle of the fire.</p>
<p>~~</p>
<p>She sat up with him through the night, helping him with his drink and refreshing it twice before she fell asleep at his side as the clouds began to break and the violet of the night bled into red with the rising sun. </p>
<p>Jaskier smiled softly down at her, now able to sit up with little discomfort. Her head was by his thigh and he moved the pillow he had been using to help cradle her crown. The book sat discarded by the bed, and the bard breathed in the scent of old pages and leather and campfire ash. </p>
<p>His mind drifted back to nights many years ago when that same scent permeated his clothes, sitting close by a dying fire in woods much like what the town was settled next to. Nights where his troubled mind did everything it could to stay awake, waiting for the sounds of growls and claws on soft earth and bodies swinging through the dense forest air to be cut down, with new growls to follow in their place.</p>
<p>The sun peaked over the horizon, guarded by the trees when Jaskier heard boots softly making their way to his door. It gently opened, clicking shut behind the new occupier of the room. The bard turned slowly, and his world nearly froze.</p>
<p>He was sure he was hallucinating that night. He had to have been. This man had to be on the other side of the Continent at this time of year, not closing in on Oxenfurt. Not in this little village where a tired bard was trying to leave the road for good.</p>
<p>But there he stood. Geralt of Rivia. The White Wolf.</p>
<p>Silver hair was pulled back away from his face, and bright gold eyes stared at the bard, unblinking. The usual armor of the witcher was discarded somewhere, traded in for a leisurely tunic and pants that did nothing to hide the power the man had in his body. </p>
<p>Slowly, Geralt made his way to the bed, switching his focus to the girl as he stood at the foot of the bed. The bard softly folded his hands in his lap, and the movement startled the girl into waking, looking up at Jaskier, then over to the silver-maned man. </p>
<p>The witcher nodded to her. “The healer has breakfast prepared for your service over the night,” he grunted out, his voice oddly soft to Jaskier’s ear. “Please eat. Then head over to the inn. There’s a room paid for and a large bed for you.”</p>
<p>“But-”</p>
<p>“Please.” He fixed her with his stare and the girl slowly got up, grabbing the book and exiting the room with nary a look at Jaskier.</p>
<p>Once the door closed behind her, Geralt’s attention was once again on Jaskier. </p>
<p>Standing at the foot of the bed in all his bulked silence, he was so much like the specter that haunted Jaskier’s waking moments for many months after the events on the mountain. The bard swallowed and squeezed his hands together tighter.</p>
<p>The witcher cleared his throat and motioned to the plate of sausages and bread in his hand that Jaskier had completely missed during his inability to look away from Geralt’s face. The standing man made his way to Jaskier’s side, taking the girl’s chair and pushing the plate onto the table, as close to Jaskier as possible.</p>
<p>The bard nodded, glancing at the food for a split moment before returning his attention to the man he had not seen in years that felt like decades with his willing absence.</p>
<p>“How are you feeling?” Geralt asked, and Jaskier’s back prickled.</p>
<p>“…better,” he answered softly, the dryness worming its way back into his throat.</p>
<p>He must need more of that tea.</p>
<p>The bard cleared his throat and lifted his chin. “So, what was it? Out in the woods.”</p>
<p>Geralt stared at Jaskier for a minute before leaning forward, his knuckles brushing against the edge of the bed. “A werewolf. Long past saving.” </p>
<p>Jaskier nodded and let his eyes travel down to Geralt’s hands. A few new scars lined the fingers that were folded together, fingers almost… fidgeting.</p>
<p>A huff left chapped lips and gold eyes closed, brow furrowing. “What were you doing in the woods? There were signs three towns over warning-”</p>
<p>“I don’t answer to you anymore, Geralt,” Jaskier hissed back, eyes stinging again. “I don’t owe you any explanation.”</p>
<p>A hand in silver hair and a growl. “Jas-” </p>
<p>“No, don’t you dare act like you are concerned for me! You came here to slay a monster! Well, the monster is dead, so just-” Jaskier broke out into a coughing fit, the sound raw and rough to his own ears.</p>
<p>A hand came to his shoulder and a tankard was presented to him. Jaskier snatched the drink from the large hand and drank deeply from it, finishing the tea in a series of large gulps. He attempted to shake himself free of the hand on his shoulder, but it held him still with little effort. </p>
<p>He tossed the tankard at Geralt, who easily caught it with one hand. His brow furrowed further.</p>
<p>“I’m fine, Geralt, so you can lea-”</p>
<p>“No, you aren’t! DAMMIT JASKIER!” Geralt bellowed, standing swiftly and turning, throwing the tankard into the hearth, where it shattered above the fire and fell into the flames. He stomped over and raised a fist to hit the stone, then sucked in a deep breath and gently laid his hand against the warm hearth. He curled his shoulders in on himself and hung his head. “I thought…” He sighed again and turned back to the bard, swiftly closing the distance between them. Dropping onto the side of the bed, he held his head in his hands, and Jaskier noticed his hands were shaking.</p>
<p>“You thought…” The bard encouraged softly.</p>
<p>Another sigh. Geralt did not lift his head to look at Jaskier. His golden sight fixed between his boots.</p>
<p>“I went out there, and I saw your lute. Nothing but splintered wood and blood, and I…” His hands raked further into his hair, gripping the silver strands roughly. “I thought you were… I ran back here and demanded to know where you were. I came here and saw you yesterday, and you were so…”</p>
<p>Jaskier gulped, and his fingers itched with want to settle upon Geralt’s shoulder.</p>
<p>The witcher continued. “I couldn’t even think of payment. All I could think of was making whatever did this to you pay. I saw it deep in the woods, and I ended it, Jaskier. I wiped every trace of it from this existence. I was so mad, I just… I stood there, staring at the little blood and bone that was left, and knew, deep down inside me, that it was just a beast, it did what all beasts do and attacked what was in its territory, but it had hurt you.”</p>
<p>He turned to face Jaskier and his hand came up, reaching forward to drag his thumb across a scratch on Jaskier’s temple. </p>
<p>“I hurt you, and I needed to pay for it.”</p>
<p>“It. It hurt me,” Jaskier corrected softly. His own hand came up, and he gently wrapped his fingers around Geralt’s wrist. He could feel his pulse, beating quickly for the witcher. “You never-” </p>
<p>“I did,” Geralt breathed out, his thumb rubbing circles below brown bangs. “I hurt you because you were close to me, and you didn’t deserve any of it.” He drew his hand back and slowly stood, staring into the fire eating the remains of the tankard. “I looked for you. After I calmed down, I tried to find you, but…”</p>
<p>“I… I stayed away, Geralt. Any town that had even the faintest rumors of a monster in the hills I turned away from, even if I was threatening to drop dead from exhaustion. I couldn’t see you again after what you said.”</p>
<p>Broad shoulders folded in on themselves. “Then why here?”</p>
<p>“Winter is approaching, and I thought you’d be on the other side of the continent, toward Kaer Morhen. There’s a teaching post available in Oxenfurt, and this is the quickest route.” Jaskier could still feel the circles around his crown, and the warmth from Geralt’s hand.</p>
<p>The witcher nodded, turning to Jaskier, his shoulders straightening. “Then let me accompany you to Oxenfurt once you’re able to travel again.”</p>
<p>“Geralt…” Jaskier sighed out and leaned his head back, staring at the old ceiling above him. “Even if you see just to the city gates, by the time you reach Kaer Morhen, it’ll be impassable for Roach, I won’t let you-”</p>
<p>There was a gentle rapping at the door. “Geralt?” It opened and the young girl from earlier peeked through. “The alderman is here and wants to talk.”</p>
<p>Geralt looked to her, and Jaskier could catch the softest of smiles on his face as he walked forward and patted her head. “Thank you, Ciri. Done with breakfast then?”</p>
<p>She nodded, her eyes drifting to Jaskier. Ciri…</p>
<p>“Now head over to the inn. Don’t squander a good bed when it is available.” He turned her with him to the door. “We’ll finish this conversation later, Jaskier.”</p>
<p>“Now hold on, just a darned minute!” Jaskier nearly shouted and sat up sharply, a sting in his back which he deftly ignored. “Ciri?! As in Cirilla?” </p>
<p>Geralt shot forward as fast as a panther and a hand clamped itself over Jaskier’s mouth. The bard smirked and bit the palm, causing the witcher to jump back with a hiss. “Shut it, Jaskier. No one is to know-”</p>
<p>“I’ll let you take me to Oxenfurt if you leave Ciri with me while you settle your contract.” He stared at Geralt; whose own gaze deflated at the prospect.</p>
<p>The white-haired wolf grunted and nodded with a familiar scowl across his features. He stomped to the door and looked between the two before slamming it shut.</p>
<p>“Now then,” Jaskier cooed, patting next to him on the bed. “I need to ask you a few questions, my lady.”</p>
<p>The girl slowly made her way to the bed and sat, hands folded neatly in her lap. “What kinds of questions?”</p>
<p>“Only the most important kind,” the bard responded, clearing his throat before looking her in the eye, a twinkle in his own. </p>
<p>She gulped.</p>
<p>“So, has Geralt been using foul language around you?”</p>
<p>~~</p>
<p>The young princess was laid across the bed, face down, tears spilling from her eyes, when Geralt returned.</p>
<p>“A pie. With no filling. Can you believe the man?!” Jaskier gestured wildly around the room, a grin threatening to split his face in twain. “I should have wished a pox on him instead!” He looked to Geralt and his smile faltered. “Maybe he’d learn how to speak to a princess if he had suffered such a fate.”</p>
<p>Ciri looked up, a bright smile gracing her features. “Geralt! Jaskier was telling me-”</p>
<p>“I know the tale,” Geralt growled out, eyes narrowing at the bard once more. He tossed a small pouch of coins onto the bed next to Ciri. “Take that with you to the inn. And get some proper rest. I won’t have you falling asleep on Roach again, no matter how much she doesn’t mind it.” He pointed to the door, and Ciri fled the room, but only after giving Jaskier a quick hug.</p>
<p>The two men stared at the door for a moment, before Jaskier broke the tense silence. “I’m surprised the alderman gave you your payment.”</p>
<p>“I didn’t want to take it. I didn’t bring a body or head back for him, and it didn’t feel like a contract kill. It was revenge.” Geralt looked sternly at the floor, at the toes of his well-worn boots. “I gave most of it to the healer, to pay for your treatment, and then some.”</p>
<p>“You bloody fool,” Jaskier groaned out, eyes rolling. “I could have paid for-”</p>
<p>“You camped in the woods with a werewolf, you don’t have two coins to rub together,” Geralt stated with a growl. His fiery glare met Jaskier and softened instantly. “Just let me make up for the past six years, Jaskier. Please.”</p>
<p>The bard chuckles out a sigh and moves over on the bed, patting the space next to him. Geralt slowly walks and sitting next to the recovering man. Jaskier laid his hand across a stubbled cheek and turned the witcher’s face so they could look eye to eye. “If you want to make up for all these years, then answer me one thing.”</p>
<p>Geralt was silent, his jaw tightening under Jaskier’s palm.</p>
<p>“How’s my singing?”</p>
<p>A large hand cradled the bard’s long fingers. “Like the spring sun after a winter night.” He turns and his lips brush against Jaskier’s palm before he brings the hand down to his chest. “Warming even the coldest of places.” </p>
<p>Jaskier blinks back the tears in his eyes and leans forward, resting his forehead on Geralt’s shoulder. A hand comes to rake through thick brown locks. “I missed you so badly,” he whispers out, a tear falling off the tip of his nose and bleeding into the black shirt below.</p>
<p>“I missed you too, my bard.”</p>
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